The Walking Machine

Welcome to Alabama! By crossing the state line today, we now have been in 7 different states, with only 1 to go! Today’s ride was very pretty, as we cycled through the Pascagoula River valley through the sun all towns of Wade and Hurley in Mississippi, and then across I-10 through the towns of Grand Bay and Bayou La Batre, Alabama before crossing the Dauphin Island Bridge. We are staying at the Gulf Breeze Motel both tonight and tomorrow night, in what will be our final “layover day”.

Today, I received my first exposure to a “Love Bug”, (or probably more accurately, “Love Bugs”), which up until now, I had not been exposed to. After crossing into Alabama, I began to notice these little critters flying at me with incredible accuracy, nestling in the hair on my arms and legs. At first, I thought they were lightning bugs without their “lantern”, and then realized that these guys aren’t flying solo, but are “together” as “pairs” (thus likely the origin of the phrase “love bugs”, if you know what I mean). I learned later that these flying insects are common to the southern United States, including Florida, Texas, Alabama, Georgia, North and South Carolina, and Louisiana.

Love bugs are apparently members of the family of March flies. I’ve learned that during and after mating, adult pairs remain coupled, even in flight, for up to several days. According to experts, April and May are considered “peak season”, thus the reason why we are seeing so many right now. They say that “flights” extend over periods of four to five weeks, and can number in the hundreds or thousands. Based on what I have read, mating takes place almost immediately after the emergence of the females. Females live only three to four days, while males live a little longer. Apparently, these “couples” found the hair on my arms and legs quite a comfortable nesting place, and I found myself having to brush these guys off quite frequently. They say that they can prove to be quite a nuisance to cars, since when the bug’s dead bodies are left on the car even after just a couple of hours, the acidity of the dead adult body often result in pits and etches in automative paint and chrome if not quickly removed.

Crossing the causeway at the Dauphin Island Bridge on a bike to enter Dauphin Island was quite an experience. You could see the bridge for miles before you came to it, and the views from the bridge were truly incredible, or so they tell me. (I was pretty focused on the keeping the bike pointed in the proper direction, so I didn’t have a lot of time or where-with-all to “stop and smell the roses”, particularly at the apex). Apparently, one of the motorists thought that I should not be on the bridge, and they angrily blew their horn at me as they passed, which scared the heck out of me. If I was supposed to be doing something different other than pedaling like crazy, I promise I don’t know what it would have been).

After entering “camp”, I replaced my back tire, since I noticed some shearing of the rubber that occurred during a particularly rough segment of road both yesterday and today. I’m now completely out of replacement tires, so I hope and pray the two I have on last for the remainder of the trip. I was supposed to have one additional tire shipped here, but the shipment apparently got lost. My backup plan, should I lose one or both tires currently on the bike, is to rent a “big wheel” tricycle like the little kids have, and finish the ride on it. (At least the plastic tires won’t go flat, right)? I also noticed some significant squeaking with my front brake, and had the mechanic help me remove the brake pads and clean a considerable amount of oil and grease off of the disc brakes, which hopefully will alleviate the issue. I have new brake pads, but Lance the mechanic feels pretty confident that this will do the trick. It’s amazing the toll that my bike has taken, thanks to the sheer distance of the ride and the various road surfaces. After this trip, I think I could write a book simply about the state of roads in the US! I’ll conclude with a few new images from my ride the last few days.

Today was, in my opinion, the polar opposite of yesterday. It actually started yesterday afternoon and throughout the evening and night, as Poplarville experienced fairly heavy rain and storms, making everything a wet and muddy mess both inside and outside the tents. Waking up every 2 hours or so, I knew going into today that it was going to be a struggle, but actually was proven wrong. Due to the weather, our start time was delayed 30 minutes to 8:00am, and we finally left then in a fairly heavy rain, on dirt roads that had turned into a slick, muddy mess. That being said, by 9:30 or 10:00, the rain had dissipated and we ended up experiencing a fairly dry day, albeit significantly overcast up until we finished, which was around 2:30pm. To compound our luck, most of the winds were at our back, so what I thought was going to be a struggle today was actually a fairly pleasant ride, over some beautiful country roads.

I must add a quick word about some of the rural parts of Mississippi we experienced today. Our route took us past several beautiful ponds and lakes, all surrounded with really pretty bungalows and houses. The peace and tranquility of these neighborhoods made me wish I had more time to park the bike and climb the steps to a covered porch, to enjoy the view of the water. It would have been a very tranquil experience, at least up until the police were summoned. But alas, I had over 70 miles to conquer, so I pressed on. We rode past some beautiful horse farms, and even saw a few zebras. Either they were zebras, or they were horses who had recently leaned up against a freshly painted fence.

Our big event today was a stop at the Ramsey Creek Baptist church, where some of the congregation had prepared lunch for all of the cyclists. It was truly a treat to watch the other cyclists throughly enjoy the parish hall, and the fact that the church actually had warm running water and clean bathrooms, which was in stark contrast to what we have experienced over the last 6 weeks or so. I witnessed a number of cyclists making multiple trips to the bathroom so they could actually wash their hands and have something to dry them on. Several church members were in attendance, and served pulled pork and chicken made in crock pots, followed by several sides and a full table full of deserts. The desert table was were the fun began.

I was eaten lunch with two friends from England, David and Sean, who had previously not spent too much time in the US. Upon his first trip to the desert table today, David discovered the bread pudding, which was something he claims to have never tried before. He raved and raved about the pudding, and quickly finished and returned to the table for a second piece. Upon his return, I explained to David that sometimes, people will make bread pudding and put a whiskey or brandy sauce over the top, to add some flavor. He thought that was a tremendous idea, and started to take his second helping up to the counter, to see if they would happen to have some whiskey or brandy on hand to pour on top. I intercepted him about half-way up to the counter, pulling him aside and quickly explaining that it would be highly unlikely for a Baptist church to have some alcohol, at least something accessible and not stashed in the back of a filing cabinet. Though disappointed, he understood, and reluctantly returned to the table to finish his second piece. You would have thought that the story would have ended there, but the fireworks were about to begin.

As we were finishing up, David, Sean, and I went to the front to thank our hosts. I explained to them that David had never had bread pudding before, and had fallen head over heels in love with the desert. That’s when the fun began.

Our hosts, namely Linda, Marlene, and Gus, along with a few more from the church, seemed to light up when I mentioned just how much David liked the bread pudding. Gus, who is married to Marlene, spoke up first, pointing to Linda (who was quite, shall we say, “top heavy”), and said, and I quote, “Oh, Linda made the pudding. Linda has the BREAST BED PUDDING this side of Biloxi. She has won many awards”. Linda, probably the only one in the room who missed Gus’s Freudian Slip, blushed, and Marlene shot her husband Gus a look, and elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Gus, fully aware of his faux pas, tried to correct his statement to “BEST BREAD PUDDING”, but couldn’t quite get it out, probably due to Marlene’s rib jab, which knocked the wind completely out of him.

While we all stood around, trying our best to ignore Gus’s mis-statement, and Gus, still unsuccessfully trying to correct his slip due to his lack of oxygen in his lungs, a few questions came to my mind. I was about to ask a series of questions to the group, such as 1) Did Linda formally enter her breasts in a local contest? and if so 2) was she planning on defending her title this year? and lastly 3) were they in need of an extra judge in the breast contest? (I wanted to know, since I have been looking for some volunteer opportunities, and thought that this would be just the thing for me). Before I could get any of my questions out, Sean, (David’s friend from the UK), stuffed a whole yeast roll in my mouth, and ushered me away from the group before I could speak. When we left, I saw Marlene nose to nose with Gus, in deep conversation. David, on the other hand, could not have cared less, for when I departed, I saw him at the desert table, packaging up a third piece of bread pudding for him to enjoy later. I had no idea that a Baptist Church could be this exciting, and have plans to visit again soon, (providing Linda brings another pan, with or without whiskey).

We are staying tonight at a new RV Park just outside of Vancleave. For the record, this RV park has six, (6) count ‘em, SIX showers, so we are not only full of bread pudding but are also clean! Vancleave has a population of about 5,000, and is the hometown of Nashville singer-songwriter Paul Overstreet, who wrote and sung such songs as “Diggin’ up Bones”. For you pop music fans, Ellen Duhe is from here, as is Chris White, linebacker with the New England Patriots.

Tomorrow, we cross another state line into Alabama, and cycle 66 miles to Dauphin Island. Everyone on the tour is looking forward to tomorrow, since we will be staying in a hotel, and our next day is a layover day. Plus the fact that we are one step closer to St. Augustine. Here’s to a successful ride! I hope and pray all is well with each of you.

Today was deceptively difficult, at least in my opinion. The “rolling” hills conquered today were just a little bit longer and a little bit more frequent than anticipated, and a relatively steady headwind made for some unplanned challenges. Overall, this certainly wasn’t the toughest day we’ve had, and I’m certainly not complaining. Knowing that we have another 70+ mile ride tomorrow and then around a 60 mile ride the next day played a factor, and was compounded by some rain that I encountered during the last 30 minutes of the ride. Overall, I would consider it a win, albeit a somewhat hard-fought one.

The highlight for today, at least in my opinion, was the stop in Bogalusa, Louisiana at Coaches Po’Boys. The place came highly recommended, and it certainly did not disappoint! I ordered a half of a shrimp Po’Boy and some cornbread, and received a bonus dish of seafood gumbo which was, without a doubt, the best gumbo I have ever tasted. To top it off, I met a “regular” who claims to eat there every day, and I have a tendency to believe him, since his picture was on the wall. He is a former military guy, and wanted to hear all about the bike trip, and share a few war stories of his own along the way. Long story short, Coaches Po’Boys gets two thumbs up from me, and I’d highly recommend stopping if you ever get into this area of Louisiana.

I’m struggling a little bit with my tires, which are apparently taking a toll from the rough Louisiana and Mississippi roads. I’ve picked out a few pieces of wire and glass out of my front tire, and noticed sort of a shearing of the rubber on my back tire. I’m hoping to finish the tour with the tires I have on the bike, but fortunately have some backup(s), just in case. I’ll be happy if these continue to hold air, but will be quick to change them out at the first sign of trouble. Hopefully I will be in a good place to make the change, if necessary.

We crossed the Mississippi line today, and cycled through the town of Poplarville, which seems like a pretty nice place. Poplarville records a population of about 2,500 people. Back in 2005, it inflicted some severe damage from Hurricane Katrina, and holds the record for the highest windspeed recorded from that particular hurricane, which was 135 miles per hour! Also, according to “my sources”, the singer-songwriter Jimmy Buffet lived in Poplarville for a period of time, starting in 1959.

Lastly, a quick word about the “Haas Cienda” RV Park, which is my temporary home here, at least for the next 15 – 16 hours. They report having four (4) showers, however if you actually want more than a trickle of cold water, you might be better served standing out in the rain. The first “shower” I tried offered no water, and the second provided a fairly good stream, yet had no shower curtain or lock on the wooden bathroom door, which essentially was a barn door with no latch. About mid-way through my shower, the wind blew the barn door open, and suddenly I was the star of the whole RV park. Calling upon my improvisational skills, I did my best “Flashdance” movie imitation, and ended up center stage, with a blast of water covering my body for the big finale. The crowd at the RV park were undoubtedly moved by my performance, and the owner has tried to book me for the next week. Unfortunately, duty calls, and I have yet another 70+ miles to cycle tomorrow. I am secretly hoping that it rains during my trek, so I can finish washing the soap off of my legs. My only recommendation if you plan to stay here: Be sure to shower before you come!

Yesterday and today were both interesting, in different ways. Today, I cycled through some beautiful backroads in rural Louisiana, through gently rolling hills and small, quaint towns on our way out of the Girl Scout Camp in St. Francisville to Kentwood, where we are staying at the Lions Club Hall on the outskirts of town. The scenery was beautiful, and despite some large logging trucks on the road and a fairly consistent headwind, made it to camp by 2:00pm.

Yesterday, we took a short excursion to New Roads, Louisiana, a quaint little town about 30 minutes away from our camp. There, we visited their town square, and saw a statue in honor of John A. Lejeune, a US Marine Corps Commander, who led troops during World War 1. Apparently, Lejeune, (pronounced “Luh-Jern”) was born in the area, and was known as the “Greatest of all Leathernecks”. Lejeune served for nearly 40 years in the military, and then, after his retirement, became the superintendent of the Virginia Military Institute. As you might have guessed, Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune in North Carolina was named in his honor during World War II. While he was a very accomplished military man, his biggest concern was that people pronounced his name correctly as “Luh-Jern”. I wonder how many past and present Marines were aware that the name of their basic training camp has been mis-pronounced as “La-June” for years and years?

About 10 miles from our final destination in Kentwood, we had a SAG stop at Hatfield’s Country Store. I quickly became embroiled in a conversation with Rosalie, the proprietor, who undoubtedly was in charge of the place. Rosalie has a very engaging personality, though her thick Cajun accent made it nearly impossible to understand more than only a few words in each sentence. In addition to her thick Cajun drawl, Rosalie has a beautiful smile, which was quite overshadowed by a bright gold “grill” ornamented on her front teeth, which seemed to gleam when she spoke or smiled. I tell you this only to set the stage for what happened next.

As I was waiting for my order to be filled, Piet and Wim, the two guys from the Netherlands entered the store, and walked up to Rosalie to place their order for lunch. Of course, Piet and Wim don’t exactly exhibit a mastery of the English language, and I doubted that Rosalie was going to be of much help. Wim took charge, and in a very confident, heavily accented Dutch accent, ordered “two chickens for (him) and two chickens for his friend Piet”. This seemed to throw Rosalie for a loop, who, understandably, thought that she had just made a sale for a total of four (4) WHOLE chickens, (fried, of course!). As she threw her head down to the counter calculator to begin to tally this enormous order, I considered intervening, however I thought that the situation was too interesting to interfere with, at least for the moment. Rosalie first wanted to clarify the order of four (4) whole chickens, and Wim, who understandably didn’t catch most of what Rosalie was saying, confirmed the order. As Rosalie began to punch buttons on her calculator, I thought that this would be a good time to lend assistance.

Touching Wim gently on the shoulder, I asked the two Dutch guys if I could help with the translation, since Rosalie’s eyes were rolling to the back of their head in a combination of confusion and elation. The boys readily agreed, so I spoke to Rosalie, and explained that because of the large order of 4 whole chickens, Wim and Piet would also probably want some sides. Rosalie’s eyes widened even further, and she glanced at the boys, who barely understanding what I said and only a fraction of what Rosalie was mumbling, nodded in strong agreement. I continued my assistance, informing Rosalie that since the boys wanted 4 chickens, they would probably need a gallon of mashed potatoes, a half of a tub of cole slaw, and the remainder of the bread pudding, which looked to about about the size of a sheet cake. (I added in the bread pudding, since it looked delicious, and I was hoping that the guys would let me have a piece, since it was likely they would have plenty to eat for lunch).

This additional information sent Rosalie into some mild convulsions, and she summoned over her husband and co-owner, Cletus, instructing him to get the axe and find a few more chickens to help satisfy what would likely be the order of the month for Hatfield’s Country Store. Finally, she lifted her head from her calculator, and told the guys that their total for lunch would be around $175.00, not including tip. This got the Dutchmen’s attention, who quickly looked at me in an accusing way, as if I was the one who had created this egregious error! Well, long story short, I decided that I had had enough fun for one afternoon, and explained that the boys wanted only two PIECES of chicken each, and just a small amount of sides. This seemed to let the air out of Rosalie’s sails, and she shot me a look out of the side of her eyes that let me know she didn’t appreciate the joke. Cletus seemed to be relieved, however, since his chore for securing additional chickens was canceled. So now, Cletus and I are close friends, however Piet, Wim, and Rosalie aren’t talking to me at the moment. I’m hoping that over time, these three will see the humor in the situation. Until then, I’ve decided to take a low profile, at least for the moment.

After this excitement, how could things get any better, right? Ah, you forgot that Kentwood, Louisiana is obviously the birthplace of Brittney Spears! So in a matter of a few days, we’ve gone from the “Greatest of all Leathernecks” to the “Princess of Pop”. Brittany is credited with influencing the revival of “teen-pop” music back in the 1990’s and early 2000’s. She signed her first contract with Jive Records back in 1997, at the age of fifteen, and the rest, as they say, is history. Of course you all know this, but her first two albums, “Baby One More Time” (1999) and “Oops!….I Did it Again“ (2000) are among the best selling albums of all time, and helped make Spears the best-selling teenage artist of all time. The only thing disappointing about my visit is that I learned that the Brittany Spears Museum here is closed today, negating the possibility of spending the afternoon in Brittany Heaven. Oh well! Perhaps I’ll bring the family back for a week’s vacation here, where we can do the tour justice. However, I did, in fact learn that Brittany’s sister’s name is NOT Broccoli, and that Broccoli Spears was NOT named after her. See the things you learn?

Alas, our time here in Brittany-ville is short-lived. Tomorrow, we cycle 72 miles, across the Mississippi border to Poplarville, MS, where we will be camping at the Haas Cienda (get it?) Ranch RV park. This will be our sixth state, leaving only Alabama and Florida left. I’m trying to stay focused on the daily challenge, and not to think much about the end, which is only just less than 2 weeks away. For now, we keep our eyes to the road!

Happy Easter! May the joy of the season fill your soul! Today, (actually yesterday) included our longest ride of the tour, 94 miles, with a slight headwind in the morning and a cold drizzle, which dissipated but stayed overcast and relatively cool all day, with temps in the high 50’s and low 60’s. As you can guess, this is somewhat unusual for Louisiana this time of year, and the locals are all amazed at the mild temperatures, which normally can easily get into the 80’s.

The night before, I had the opportunity to attend an Easter Vigil service at a local Roman Catholic Church in Mamou. Despite the fact that the town housed only around 7,000 people, the church was relatively large, and fairly well attended. Starting in candlelight (similar to my local church), the service lasted just a little over 2 hours, and included several baptisms and first communions. We returned to camp around 10:30, and “slept fast”, since we had an early departure the following morning, thanks to the long 94 mile ride.

In the morning, I awoke to a very soggy tent and about 25 – 30 snails, clinging to the tent screen. I’m assuming that word had gotten out as to just how slow I ride, and they figured that they could be considered “an omen”, or at least my mascot for the remainder of the tour. I had forgotten how the low sea level can create such wet and soggy conditions, and had to navigate around a lot of puddles and mud in the field in order to make it to the awnings, where a quick breakfast was served. After riding through our long 2 mile departure from a very rough dirt and gravel road, I entered onto a 2 lane road and was off!

The ride itself started with some drizzle, which kept the glasses fairly foggy and wet for the first half of the ride. Around 35 miles in, the route took me over a long bridge span, and emptied out onto a 5 mile “swamp road”, which looked as though it had not been serviced since the Louisiana Purchase. Despite the large rocks, pooled water, and dirt along our path, the ride was fascinating, as there were true swamps on either side of the relatively narrow road. The road was so rough, however, that one rider experienced a severed derailleur and a cracked tire rim, and other had a flat that caused a number of us to stop and help repair the tire, before we could continue. At one point, we were forced to ride through a very large pool of water that had spilled over from the swamp. Having to “un-clip” and extended my legs, I successfully coasted through the water and back onto dry land. The route also took me over the John James Audubon Bridge, built in 2011, over the Mississippi River. I stopped and took some photos, and watched as a large barge navigated the water below. I’m told that the width of the river at this point was over 1 mile.

Long story short, I made it the full 94 miles without much incident, and arrived at the Marydale Girl Scout Camp here in St. Francisville. St. Francisville records a population of 1,500 people, and is a part of the Baton Rouge metropolitan area, which is about 30 miles away. Back in the 1800’s, St. Francisville served as the capital of the Republic of West Florida, where area planters set up their own independent republic for 74 days, before being annexed to the Territory of Orleans, as a possession of the US. There are a number of historic homes in St. Francisville, the most notable the Wolf-Schlesinger House, which now operates at the St. Francisville Inn as a bed and breakfast.

Today is a “layover day”, where the plan is to clean and service the bike, take a walk, and possibly a nap, and prepare for our next ride tomorrow, a 58 mile ride to Kentwood. In the next 4 – 5 days, we will average about 70 miles a day. Our route will take us through the rest of Louisiana for the next 2 days, and then through Mississippi for only 2 days, before arriving in Alabama. The states are coming fast and furious these days.

I hope you all had a very blessed Easter. Enjoy the week!

Welcome to our first full day in Louisiana. We cycled out of DeRidder around 7:30, and made it to Mamou, LA just slightly after noon, covering 66 miles through relatively flat farmland. The wind worked against us slightly, however the shorter mileage assisted in an early arrival. I have a suspicion that everyone is starting to gear up for the 93 miler tomorrow on Easter Sunday, so an earlier arrival today was welcome. That being said, I’m hopeful to attend an Easter Vigil service in town this evening at 8:00pm, so the night may be short, yet the day will likely be extra long.

We passed two different types of farmland today. The first were fields of cows and cattle. The other type of farmland we saw plenty of today were rice / crawfish fields, which apparently has become a fairly big business here in the swamplands of Louisiana. According to experts, about 40 years ago, farmers discovered that the 2 year growing cycle for rice coincided perfectly with the 2 year growing cycle for crawfish. Now, many of Louisiana rice farms are seeded every other year with baby crawfish. This provides an entirely new source of income for farmers here, and helps expand the production of both “crops”. The crawfish help aerate the soil and provide nutrients for the rice. Since rice is an aquatic plant, and the crawfish season is exactly opposite the rice season, you can grow rice and seed the crawfish into it during the slower part of the crawfish season. Double cropping farmers plant rice in April, and six to eight weeks later flood the pond with about 18 inches of water. 50 to 75 pounds of crawfish per acre are added to the pond to grow and reproduce. In August, the pond is drained, and the crawfish burrow underground and the rice is harvested. I suppose in the early Spring, the farmers harvest the crawfish, and rush them to Fish City Grill, where Jacob can savor them to his heart’s content. I saw completely flooded fields with very clear water, and other fields with relatively brown water. Of course, I made the assumption that the brown water fields were producing “dirty rice”, and am hopeful soon to see hush puppy trees. Of course, my imagination and attention span may have started to wander here in the last few sentences, but it’s always fun to think about.

A few of our roads today appeared to be just slightly lower than sea level, and it’s pretty obvious that we are deep into the marshlands of this state. Thanks to all of the water and drainage on both sides of the road, I was spared of yet another dog attack, which actually made me laugh. As I was rounding a corner, I saw a large black Labrador bounding toward me, barking and snarling, as apparently I looked like a delicious pre-lunch snack. He came to the edge of the road, and discovered a relatively large drainage area / ditch that he would have to cross in order to access me, his intended target. With one giant L E A P, he left the ground and attempted to jump over the ditch, which was full of drainage water. He came close, clearing his front paws, yet the back paws that trailed behind slipped on some mud along the bank of the ditch, causing him to slip and then lurch backward. The poor dog did a nearly complete backflip backwards, and landed with a huge SPLASH into the drainage area, which was full with about 3 feet of water. This gave me just enough time to speed ahead. I took a quick look behind me to see that the dog had survived the leap and backwards cannonball, and was just making it up onto the bank of the ditch as I cycled away. He looked a little dizzy and disoriented, and was probably a little disappointed (or embarrassed) that he failed to catch his prey. I wonder how you can tell if a black Lab is embarrassed? They don’t turn red, do they?

The “Three Oaks RV Camp” for tonight has achieved a new low, even by our standards. The camp is about 6 miles outside of the bustling town of Mamou, located off of a dirt road about 1/4 mile from a paved road. The field we will be staying in is completely saturated, and the tents that were put up are standing in about 1-2 inches of water, which is advantageous for the mosquitos and gnats, but not so much for the two-legged inhabitants now here. Any patches of dry land are infested with fire ants, requiring us to step lightly and move quickly to get from point A to point B. We have the “luxury” of one men’s shower and one women’s shower, which they hope to serve the 30+ people who have invaded this little paradise on the prairie. To compound the problem, the electrical box typically used to charge our bike lights and phones we use for navigation is reportedly broken, so we may be completely without power, as well as any electrical assistance tomorrow. Aside from these drawbacks, the owner of the camp will be making a crawfish dinner for all of us tonight. One can always hope to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat!

Mamou itself is home for about 3,000 inhabitants. Named after Chief Mamou, the word “Mamou” means “mammoth” in French. (Apparently, they saw the size of the red ant piles, and thought the name “mammoth” would be a good name for the town). Beyond rice and crawfish, they grow cotton here, but apparently this crop has diminished over the years. Know as the “Cajun Music Capital of the World”, Mamou is home of the world famous Fred’s lounge, which features live music every Saturday morning. In fact, the Zydeco music was rocking Main Street as we cycled in.

So, that’s the word from Mamou. I remain hopeful that the fields will dry up suddenly, the power will be restored, and perhaps they will institute maid and a room service for our tents, here in the next 10 minutes. Hey, a guy can dream, can’t he?! While you celebrate Jesus’ resurrection tomorrow morning, say a prayer that he watches over this group of cyclists as they travel to St. Francisville. Happy Easter!

Blessed Good Friday to you all! I spent the majority of Good Friday managing fairly heavy rain and headwinds on my bike, but was able to cross the state line into Louisiana and make it to DeRidder by 2:00pm, allowing some time to pause and pray at 3:00pm. Today marks the fifth (5) state we have been in on our tour, as we crossed the Sabine River from Texas into Louisiana. One of the first towns we came to, DeRidder, marked our stopping point, and fortunately it is at a Quality Inn, one of the few motels we are able to stay in on the tour. The motel stop came at a good time, and is appreciated by everyone on the tour.

My arrival into our stop tonight marked a first for me on the tour, as I experienced my first flat. Having tubeless tires, it was interesting to watch the sealant spewing from the gash in the tire, which apparently came from a piece of glass. I was really fortunate to have discovered this upon my arrival, and extra fortunate to enlist the help of the mechanic, Lance, who was able to walk me through the steps of removing and replacing the tire, which was on the front tire, which makes me fortunate x 3. He did discover that my front brake rotor is slightly bent, which causes some rubbing of the brake. He feels that this is relatively minor, but it should be replaced when I get home, unless it starts acting up. I don’t quite know how a rotor would “act up”, perhaps start using foul language or start smoking, but I shall be on the lookout for any unusual signs.

Last night was interesting, in that I was able to attend a Maundy Thursday service at a nearby Roman Catholic Church with a fellow rider. The church was close by, so we were able to walk. The service was fascinating, as they intermingled Latin, Spanish, and English as a part of the liturgy. While this Maundy Thursday service was different from the services I have attended at my home church, there were a lot of commonalities. Of course, I didn’t really know the words to many of the hymns and chants, but made up for it by singing louder than everyone else. I’m sure that this was appreciated by all! 🙂

Today’s ride was rough, no two ways about it. Given the mileage we needed to cover, we started at 7:15am, and I finished around 2:00, covering the 74 miles in a hard rain which soaked me from head to toe. This is the second day in the past three where we have ridden extensively in the rain, and I for one am very much looking forward to laundry day, as the broad majority of my cycling clothes are completely saturated and covered in mud. The road surface compounded the challenge, and was likely where I picked up the flat, (appears to be from a piece of glass, as the debris on the shoulder is significant).

Dogs are becoming a bigger challenge than expected, as I was chased three (3) times today alone. I’ve learned a few things about dogs on this trip: 1) Some dogs are faster than others. 2) Some dogs enjoy to chase for fun. 3) Some dogs do NOT chase for fun. 4). The quiet ones that don’t bark are the most dangerous. Seriously, I’ve witnessed two serious dog attacks while on a bike, and have seen one dog make a pretty good purchase on a riders shoe. I’ve also seen the dog owner, walking down the street without their dog on a leash, throughly enjoying the spectacle. Scary! They say that the next 2 or 3 states are the worst for this.

A few quick facts about our stop today, DeRidder, LA. It has a population of around 10,000 people, and was named about Ella de Ridder, the sister-in-law of a Dutch railroad financier. One of 13 children, Ella ran away from home at an early age and was presumed dead by her family, who only discovered later that she had traveled to the United States. The town was named for her by her brother-in-law, who brought the first railroad to this area of Louisiana. DeRidder’s most famous structure is a building known as the Old Beauregard Parish jail, which was built in 1914. In 1928, there was a famous double execution by hanging in the jail by two murderers. These were the only recorded hangings in the jail. Apparently, the prisoners were hanged by an apparatus at the top of the spiral staircase. (I realize that this story has taken a serious turn, so I will stop with the macabre).

Tomorrow, we ride 66 miles to Mamou, which is considered to be the Cajun Music Capital of the World. I’m hoping to get a look at “Fred’s Lounge”, which apparently has been an institution for over 70 years. Wish me luck!

First and foremost, blessed Maundy Thursday to you all! I certainly miss not being able to attend services at St. Vincents this evening, but am hopeful to find a church here in Silsbee, if I can work it in between rider meetings, etc…

Last night is a night I will not soon forget. To set the stage, we were staying way out in the country outside of Shepherd, TX, at a retreat that consisted of a small converted garage, a few trailers for the owners, and a large pasture, where all of the tents had been set up. It had been raining for most of the day, but had let up for a few hours, right as we arrived. Everyone was completely soaked, and the amount of wet clothes hanging from every hook, nail, and fixture gave the appearance of a neighborhood garage sale on a Saturday morning. Needless to say, thanks to the 90 mile ride and the torrential rain, the day was a long one.

Right as we left the converted garage and entered our tents, around 8:00pm after a late dinner, the fun began in KA-BOOM Town. First, the rain started, soft at first, but it grew in intensity until you could hear nothing other than the torrential downpour that was unleashed on the tent and rain fly. Then, the biggest electrical storm I have ever experienced, with both intense thunder and lightning started slightly after 8pm, and did not let up until well after midnight. The flashes of lightning lit up the inside of the tent as if it was mid-day, and repeated every 5 minutes or so, followed by thunder that crashed and boomed so hard and close that it literally shook the ground and inflatable mattress I was laying on. The echo from the thunder in the pasture reverberated off of the canyon walls, and sent repeated shock waves over our heads, and giving me the feeling of complete vulnerability. I don’t mean to overplay the situation, but the feeling of simply waiting for the next “KA-BOOM” was pretty scary.

Finally, the storm subsided around 12:30, so the 4:45am alarm added to the cruel and unusual punishment. Of course, I awoke to a complete saturated tent floor, which matched the already soaked clothes from the ride the previous day. I now know why they have us sleeping on inflatable mattresses, as they can also double as white-water rafts. The line at 5:00am at the outdoor toilets, (I did mention that everything was outdoors, right?) was already forming, so I have decided I would wait until the end of the month before using the restroom again. Sounds reasonable, right?!

Despite the fact that the forecast called for more of the same today, we were fortunately spared from a second day of torrential rain, at least until I arrived in Silsbee. Of course, within 5 minutes after I arrived, the skies opened up again, dousing the group of riders behind me, (yes, believe it or not, there are riders behind me!). Today, we cycled through mostly flat roads and forest scenery, riding through Big Thicket Natural Preserve, (which I think is a new flavor that Smuckers offers. Try it on toast or a biscuit, next time you get a chance!). We stopped for lunch at the Honey Island General store, but unfortunately they were sold out of their fried bologna sandwiches. Tonight, we are staying at the YYAF, which to those of you uninitiated, stands for Youth Young Adult Fellowship, a small gymnasium that I believe was last swept out and cleaned just after World War II. Tonight is notable, since it will be the last night we spend in Texas on the cycling tour before moving on to DeRidder, Louisiana tomorrow. Tomorrow is a 74 mile day, however it includes only 866 feet of climb. The only thing to watch out for, I’m told, are the alligators. (Hopefully, they aren’t as fast as some of these country dogs, who can REALLY give you a run for your money)!

I should have new photos to post today, so here goes. Have a blessed Holy Week!

Today was a very challenging yet successful day of cycling. It started a little earlier than usual, around 7:00am, with a one-mile hike on foot over a dirt and gravel road through a field to get to a paved 2 lane road. From there, we cycled under heavily overcast skies until about 11:00am, when the skies opened up released a lot of “liquid sunshine” for the remaining of the ride, with periodic torrential downpours on relatively busy roads, traveled by logging trucks, tractor-trailers, and other service vehicles. Not the most pleasant sensation, but anytime you complete a nearly 90 mile ride in these conditions, you should probably count it as a victory.

Our first segment had us travel through Navasota, just about 7 miles from our campsite. The route took us past the statue of Frank Hamer, the gun-toting lawman who tracked down and killed Bonnie and Clyde. Frank was the city marshal of Navasota back in 1934, when he and his posse finally dealt the final blow to these outlaws. I suppose we owe him an eternal debt of gratitude, for if he had not been successful, these two would probably still be wreaking havoc in Texas! As a little bit of trivia, Bonnie and Clyde were lovers, but were not married. Bonnie was married to a guy named Roy Thornton, and died wearing his wedding ring. Also, it is said that Clyde’s first arrest came from failing to return a rental car. They also say that bank robberies were NOT their specialty, apparently they staged far more robberies of gas stations and grocery stores than bank heists. Often, their loot amounted to only $5 – $10. One last little bit of trivia: Clyde chopped off two of his toes with an axe in prison in order to avoid enduring unforgiving work and brutal conditions at a prison he was in. This proved to be unnecessary, however, since he was paroled only six (6) days after he did this. It reminds me of the quote sometimes erroneously attributed to Clyde, but in fact was said by Willie Sutton: When asked “why he robbed banks?” Willie calmly explained, “because that’s where they keep all the money”! How any of this has anything to do with my cycling trip, I’m not really sure!

After this little excursion, our route took us past the Lone Wolf Ranch, a ranch on the outskirts of Navasota. This ranch belongs to Chuck Norris, so naturally, I stopped to take a picture, and started to cycle up to the front door, so I could share a few of my favorite Chuck Norris jokes, and see if he had any new ones for me. Unfortunately, the group I was riding with dissuaded me from going to the door. It’s a shame, since I’m sure if Chuck was home, he would get a “kick” (pun intended) of a few good ones. One of my favorites: “When the boogeyman goes to sleep every night, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris”. And one last one as a bonus: “When Chuck Norris enters a room, he doesn’t turn the lights on, he turns the dark off”. You see? Chuck would have LOVED my surprise visit. Maybe next time!

From Navasota, we cycled into the Sam Houston National Forest, located only about 50 miles north of Houston. This was an absolutely beautiful drive, which would have been even better had it not been raining so hard. Sam Houston National Forest is one of four national forests in Texas, and spans over 160,000 acres. It even includes a 128 mile hiking trail. They say that deer is the most prevalent wildlife in the Forest, with plenty of quail and dove. I was surprised to see well over 100 small, well controlled fires on both the left and right hand side of the road, deep in the forest. These first were mostly smoldering, however there were several where you could easily see small flames emanating from areas surrounding fallen logs. I learned later that the US Forest Service is working on a prescribed burn here. The prescribed burns are the controlled application of fires by a team of fire experts under specified weather conditions to restore health to ecosystems that depend on fire. Apparently, the burns reduce wild first, rejuvenate wildlife habitats, provide control of invasive brush, and improve watershed. You see, I learn something new every day!

As we entered camp this afternoon around 3:00pm, the skies unleashed another torrential downpour, coupled by very loud thunder and very close lightning strikes. The sound was truly deafening, and pretty scary. I’m not crazy about sleeping out in the middle of a pasture tonight under these conditions, but on the bright side, maybe this will help me charge my cell phone! Tomorrow, we cycle from Shepherd to Silsbee, which will be a 59 mile day with only 742 feet of elevation. After a 90 miler today, I think I should be able to handle this. The only thing I don’t relish is putting on water-logged shoes and vest, but am afraid that this may be unavoidable. I promise to keep you posted, and to post more pictures, once we make it to a place with Wi-Fi!

Today was a well deserved “layover day”, which meant that the riders all got to sleep a little later, care for their bikes, and simply rest. Since we have cycled around 325 miles over the past 5 days, it was time for a little breather, at least that’s what my backside said to me last night, during an intense conversation. (My only hope is that the rest of the campers did not overhear the conversation I had with myself!). The night was pleasantly cool, and sleep came fairly early and relatively easy.

This morning, following breakfast, I bummed a ride with our mechanic to College Station, which is approximately a 30 minute drive from our current location, which has an address of “40 and Plum”, (meaning 40 miles out and plum in the sticks). College Station holds a special place in my heart, as Debby and I both have visited both Jessica and Jacob during their time in college there, at Texas A & M. None of the other riders had much information on the cities surrounding our location, and many opted to take a shuttle into Navasota, which is much closer, but also much smaller, with less to do. The tour director described both as small towns, yet in truth, Navasota has a population of around 7,000, and College Station much larger, at around 120,000.

Texas A & M (the “A” stands for “Agricultural” and the “M” for “Mechanical”) records a student population of around 73,000, with another 16,000 as a part of the faculty and administration of the school. It offers 133 undergraduate programs, and 175 master’s degree programs, and is certainly one of the largest universities in the US. Notable graduates include actress Eva Longoria, President George H.W. Bush, singer Lyle Lovett, daughter Jessica Green, and son Jacob Jeffers. (I’m sure you have heard of all of these famous people!). My first stop in College Station, naturally, was to the Trek Bike store, where I was able to replace my rattling water bottle cage for my bike. From there, I walked about a mile to the Shiraz Shish Kabob for a gyro plate, and then walked another mile to the center of campus, where I took in the sights and reminisced about some of the good times we had during our visits to see the kids during their college years. From there, I caught an Uber back to reality, to our little paradise on the prairie, where I washed and lubricated my bike, and readied the equipment for another solid week of riding.

The next 5 days will be, in my opinion, a “make or break” segment for all of us. We have rain and significant winds in the forecast for the next three (3) days, and will be riding a total of around 390 miles, which translates to an average of approximately 80 miles per day. Tomorrow we will ride 89 miles, and Sunday will ride 93 miles. If I can get through the next five (5) days without expending too much energy or experiencing an “unexpected incident”, I am of the opinion that the “back will be broken” on this tour, and the rest will be all downhill, (figuratively, of course). That being said, the plan is to take it one pedal stroke at a time, and try not to focus on anything other than the next mile. Here’s to a positive attitude, and an abundance of blessings and luck along the way!

My Uber driver this afternoon was quite a character. As he explained to me, he was quite an accomplished person, probably one of the smartest people he has ever met, and certainly one of the most humble. When he is not driving an Uber, he apparently has solved some of the worlds most vexing problems, ranging from COVID to beriberi to the common flu, and is on the verge of inventing a cure for athlete’s foot, jock itch, and halitosis. After learning about some of his accomplishments (none of which have been accepted by the FDA, however he expects to hear back very soon), I was certainly reluctant to dismount from his 2006 pickup truck, since I was certain he might unveil a solution for world hunger and loneliness. He insisted on shaking my hand about five (5) times, which I normally would not have paid much attention to, except for the fact that he was missing the tips of about 3 fingers, (probably the result of his work in identifying a cure for male pattern baldness). Without a doubt, he was one of Navasota’s true gems, yet one of their best kept secrets.

Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers over the next few days. I promise to stay in touch, and will keep you posted on all of the excitement we run into along the way!